


Magical Souls

by SpiritTamer



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: AU where all the characters have magic powers or are creatures, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angels, Demons, F/M, M/M, Magical Realism, Spirits, Vampires, Werewolves, etc - Freeform, fae
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 22:14:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8941474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritTamer/pseuds/SpiritTamer
Summary: Sometimes you need more than seven people to defeat an army. Sometimes you need seven magic wielding supernatural creatures. 
(or: the monster AU nobody asked for)





	

The people of Rose Creek had long since founding the town had peace. It was lively, profitable, and many families had lived and died safely. The whole town was a ray of sunshine, from the small mine around the valley, to the very top of the church, it was in serenity. Hardships came and went, they survived and prospered. 

The magical population was low, a creature or two inhabiting the town. The preacher was part angel, occasionally a pair of wings outlined by his shoulders as he taught. Leni was rumored to be a kitsune, a friend or some claiming her shadow had a tail. Even Matthew Cullen had martyr blood in his family, a persona of sacrifice, and people gossiped if his wife Emma would pass it on. 

The world was one of the supernatural, regular people possessing powers in their daily lives, but they had learned to contain it enough to not be oppressed by the government. Hybrids existed as well, people who were half or one third monster, fangs for teeth and claws for nails. They were careful to reveal their abilities and never overuse them. 

In the wild west, out in the California Territory, there was less restrictions. People with powers used them to hunt for gold, the tougher could survive mining explosions and went deeper and deeper. Vaqueros could herd and rope up cattle if they had enough of an advantage to run faster and live longer. Part ghosts could get away with stealing drinks from saloons, and creatures of greed made thousands off of gambling. 

Rose Creek had managed to avoid these conditions for a long while, the families that built the town made of respectable magic-wielders. They were safe from the worst.  
That was until, a man named Bartholomew Bogue struck gold by Rose Creek. He was a powerful industrialist, and quickly took over the mine and town with a snap of his fingers. Sometimes literally. 

He was not subtle about his supernatural abilities. He was known as a shadow creature to the feared settler. His hands were splattered with black magic, and each footstep he took, a cloud of nightmare smoke followed. His shadows stretched long in sunsets, forming terrifying forms that traveled around the walls and floor as separate beings, able to reach out and grab at men who disobeyed. He wasn’t even corporeal, his whole body made of hatred and darkness, only holding a form to seem somewhat human. 

Rose Creek became a living hell for everyone living their. Bogue’s presence was a cold and dreadful feelings, sucking the life of anyone who dared meet his eyes. The town was in peril. 

“I want something. I take it.” 

The so-called ‘Shadow Baron,’ now stood in aisle of their church, silver shining pistols at his belt a sharp contrast from the black aura that held the area in total silence. 

“What kind of man are you?” 

Matt Cullen’s voice rang out as Bogue made his way out of the burning church, flames licking at his heels. He turned to Matthew with a glare of loathing, the ground beneath his feet turning a night-sky black, trailing its way to Matthew’s own form. 

“Matthew, please,” Emma begged, attempting to grab at his sleeve, but he pushed her off to make his way towards Bogue. With no magic herself, there was nothing Emma could do to stop him. 

“What did we ever do to you?” He cried, voice cracking with emotion. Emma let out a noise of sadness, silently hoping he’d back down. 

With no words, Bogue grabbed his gun from the holsters on his waist, and fired with a loud, ringing shot. Before Matthew’s body could fall to the ground, Bogue flicked his wrist to send shadows splaying out of his hand to rise from the ground and engulf Matt, the black swirls piercing through his chest.

As his body finally fell, screams erupted in the center of town, Bogue’s men pulling out their guns and shooting at bystanders, a few townsfolk going down loading their own before going down in pools of blood. Bogue’s own magic draped over the bodies, as if he was sucking the remaining energy out of their selves. McCann, Bogue’s right hand man, staying in Rose Creek to watch the town while he was out, circled the corpses. The man’s eyes were a deep red, and hooked demon tail flicked back and forth behind his tailcoat.

Of all the yells that went out, Emma’s was the most pitiful and sorrowful, toppling forward to collapse on her husband’s body. Her sobs crackled through the streets, piercing the blackstone agent’s ears. 

She whimpered and clutched at Matt’s black and bloody clothes, shaking in grief. The crowd cleared, Bogue and his men dispersed to leave the town, leaving the sheriff to take over. Many of her fellow friends tried to pry Emma away, but she refused to budge, as if letting go of her husband’s body meant he’d truly leave. She crouched for hours, until no tears were left, and was left in silence. With the miners ordered not to put out the church fire, the flames were left to burn and die out around her form. The whispers from townsfolk looking out their windows claimed the fire made its way to the very ends of Emma’s dress, charing her hands that dug into the hard soil next to Matthew’s own. She did not move from the flares, but had no reaction, even when it engulfed her entire self. 

Emma Cullen, of course, did survive the fire, and was found the next day in the center of town, carrying the late Mr. Cullen in her blacked, ashy arms. The fire had reached her hair, but instead of burning it, the ends of her ginger curls were an even more brilliant orange. 

None of that was the most surprising, as the town looked on in shock. Overnight, she’d grown a thin pair of wings, arched across the curve of her back. They were the color of sunset, rosy and lemon feathers gleaming in the day. If one was close enough, you could hear a tiny crackling, as if the wings were literally on fire.

Forever rumored to possess the powers of a magical soul, the grief for Matthew’s death had killed Emma, only for her to be reborn again, heart too filled with the thought of revenge, and rose with wings and a heart of fire. 

The phoenix had risen, and was out for blood. 

 

...

 

“How far are we from Amador City anyway? Can’t be more than another night, no?”

Looking over the next crest of a hill, Teddy Q glanced to the direction of the town back to Emma, squinting in the afternoon sun.

“Should be there by nightfall.” Emma replied, holding their map carefully in her fingertips. Over the last few days, she’d singed the edges of the paper many times, still not used to having fire powers, flares bursting from her hands whenever she was more emotional than normal. Teddy had taken to holding their bag of valuables, which they planned to offer if they managed to get hold of enough people to defend their town. 

“That ain’t too bad.” Teddy mused, kicked off his horse to head over the next outcrop, Emma following. He adjusted the strings on hat, the tips of two fluffy gray ears poking out of two holes cut out of the top. Teddy was supposedly part werewolf, bitten on the thumb as a kid. Keyword: supposedly. With two tiny soft and folded over ears, a tiny tail made of cloud, and front teeth only slightly pointed, he more resembled a newborn puppy. It fit oddly well with his caring personality. 

Emma tucked the map away into her bag and shifted her shoulders to fold her wings tightly against her back, shrunken down to a more reasonable side. When some members of the town protested she was too weak to go on the journey, they’d spread to a span of a yard, ash and sparks flying onto the road. They were not just for show, but a force to be reckoned with. 

“Let’s just hope we find someone.” She mumbled.

**Author's Note:**

> WOO! New fic, because I have NO self control :') 
> 
> This will follow the basic plot of the movie, but with a hell of a lot of magic! This started where I asked myself, "Man, wouldn't it be cool if Goodnight was a literal angel of death?" and just sort of went from there.
> 
> Emma is a phoenix, Bogue is a shadow person, and Teddy is part werewolf. Other characters will be announced as it goes on! 
> 
> However, I need suggestions for Red Harvest and Jack Horne, so if y'all have any suggestion for what creature they'd be, it's really appreciated! 
> 
> Comments keep me writing, if you guys could leave some feedback it'd make my day :) Hope you're enjoying!


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